Britain’s most easterly marathon runner

16 miles in 2:34:51
Route: Lowestoft circuit 3

In the distant days before The Darkness and Rock School, there was little else notable about Lowestoft other than its position as Britain’s most easterly point. The town has really taken this label to heart. The Lowestoft Journal carries the strapline 'Britain’s most easterly newspaper' (which is lucky, because there is little else to write about here other than the perennial campaign for a third river crossing), there is a church on the seafront which hopes to convert 'easterly-enthusiasts' by advertising itself as 'Britain's most easterly church' and The Sun Rise Inn, the most easterly hotel in Britain (which, I assume, is an attempt to deflect the bad press it must receive from being situated so close to the notorious Corton nudist beach) .

In the spirit of my townsfolk, today for a brief but satisfying moment I became Britain’s most easterly marathon runner!

After yesterday’s uncomfortable 5 miler, I wasn’t looking forward to today’s long run. In fact, I wasn't sure that it would happen at all – my knee has been very sore and I couldn’t imagine going much further. But as Father Ted says to Dougal when they are stuck in the Very Dark Caves of The Mainland “That’s a very defeatist attitude”. And it is. So I pulled on my trainers, set my Ipod to 'maximum cheese' and set off on the first steps of my longest run to date.

The weather was beautiful. The sun was shining, the temperature was 16 degrees and the coastal breeze lifted me along the first few miles. I had a look at a map of Lowestoft before I set out and sketched out a route in my head which would take me from the town’s northernmost tip to its southernmost. Today, I would run the length of Lowestoft.

I set off up Bloodmoor Hill towards Kesingland and then swung out east onto Pakefield Cliffs. The view was spectacular (below). The sea was blue, the air sweet and the sun was warm.

Heading north along the cliffs, I passed Pakefield Church, the Jolly Sailors pub, Kensington Gardens, my old primary school (St Mary’s R.C.), the putting green on Lowestoft seafront that my grandfather used to run, the Claremont and South Piers. I crossed Lowestoft Bridge (wondering if this is how it would feel to cross Tower Bridge during the marathon) and then through the town and out through the industrial estate to Lowestoft Ness – the most easterly piece of land in the country. I stood for a moment on the compass engraved into the floor and savored the feeling of being further east then everyone else in the country, raising my hands in the air in triumph! Avoiding the looks of the local fisherman, I set off north again, along the North Denes.

I have fond memories of the North Beach in Lowestoft. As a kid, my parents would bring my brothers and me down here and we would play dare on the rocks – last one to jump to safety as the sea approached was the winner. Many a wet foot was had on that beach. I ran the length of the sea wall (below), soaking up the salt air and the sunshine.

At the top of the Denes I ran up the hill and set off towards Corton, past Dip Farm (site of my recent thrashing of Saunders on the golf course) and Pleasurewood Hills (East Anglia’s no.1 American theme park). Down Corton Long Lane and then back along Yarmouth Road to Denes High School (or, “the grammar school” as my dad insists on calling it – probably because he never went there). From here, I took a new cycle path following an old railway line, past Barnards Meadow where my brother played cub football as a kid and Normanston Park where he played pub football 20 years later, down the riverside by Lake Lothing where the Lowestoft rich and famous (and Jim) moor their playboy yachts (below). I came out in Oulton Broad and nipped in the Spa to bag another bottle of tasty Lucozade Sport (I am addicted).

Onwards, past the Dutchman Pub and along Beccles Road towards Carlton Manor, where my parents used to take us when they wanted a drink on a summer evening as we could play in the beer garden. Then, finally, back through Carlton Colville, across Rosedale Park and home, exhausted, after two and a half hours.

An epic run, covering Lowestoft, Pakefield, Corton, Oulton Broad and Carlton Colville - almost as many memories as miles. My knee was sore throughout and I had to stop and stretch out the muscles two or three times which helped. It's good to know that, when pushed, it can take the strain of a long run.

As soon as I got home I jumped into a freezing cold bath. Desperate times call for desperate measures and these times, my friends, are about as desperate as it gets. Time will tell if 10 minutes in the ‘cold tub’ will help my legs/knee recover faster. I’m willing to give anything a go to be honest.

It’s been a difficult week. I haven’t really done any training since the Berko Half. My knee has been sore and I’ve let my social and work lives interfere with training much more than I should have done. I am annoyed with myself for not being more disciplined. My time today wasn't fantastic (it would take me more than 4 hours to complete the marathon at this pace) but I have to be pleased that I finished it.

This week I have to focus. I must do at least three training sessions before my birthday on Friday and then I can enjoy it guilt-free. After that, I have 3 more long runs to do and I’ll be into my taper.

42 days to go until race day. Today’s run is another big step in the right direction, but I must stay focused if I am to be ready.